These days, hot chicken is a "must-try" Southern food. Restaurants in New York, Detroit, Cambridge, and even Australia advertise that they fry their chicken "Nashville-style." Thousands of people attend the Music City Hot Chicken Festival each year. The James Beard Foundation has given Prince's Chicken Shack an American Classic Award for inventing the dish.
But for almost seventy years, hot chicken was made and sold primarily in Nashville's Black neighborhoods--and the story of hot chicken says something powerful about race relations in Nashville, especially as the city tries to figure out what it will be in the future.
Hot, Hot Chicken recounts the history of Nashville's Black communities through the story of its hot chicken scene from the Civil War, when Nashville became a segregated city, through the tornado that ripped through North Nashville in March 2020.
Mixed feelings about this book. I am from Nashville, and I liked reading about all the "urban renewal" projects that explain why there are so many public housing projects there. It was interesting to learn about what the city was like before interstates carved it up. I can't say as I was surprised that there was systemic racism at work with these projects, but it was good to learn the details.
Of course I recognized all the neighborhoods, but I am not sure if a reader without any knowledge of the city would be able to picture it from the description in the book. And I am not sure that the photos of parking lots etc. where neighborhoods once were do much to illustrate it. Could she not locate old photos or maps to bring those neighborhoods to life? Seems pretty basic.
The story of the Prince family was just confusing. Granted, they were a confusing family, but I felt like the narrative threw too much information at me too fast, and with too many "who knows?" As a person who spends a lot of time researching and writing about family history myself, I kept thinking, well, either research this thing until you figure it out, or don't bring it up in the first place. That whole Prince storyline could have been trimmed down to the essentials and it would have fit much better within the larger narrative without distracting so much from it.
Another thing that bugged me: while Martin is around my age, she definitely had a different experience of downtown Nashville than I did. She refers to all the neighborhoods she avoided in the 1980s, and even uses the term "blood spatter" in her description of lower Broadway. Good grief. Downtown Nashville was definitely on the shabby side by the 1980s, but my (white) grandmother still shopped, went to church, and had her hair done there. My (white) mother worked at a department store on Church Street. My (white) grandfather owned a small business downtown, and bought his hobby farm supplies on lower Broadway at Acme Farm Supply (now a fancy bar). I bought my wedding ring at the Service Merchandise catalog store on lower Broadway in 1988. I wouldn't have hung around lower Broadway at night by myself during any decade, but downtown was hardly no-go zone. It was just where blue-collar Nashville, white and black, did their business. (In part, because all the bus lines on Nashville's spoked road layout terminated there.)
That said, I did appreciate Martin's acknowledgement of what has been lost with Nashville's stratospheric ascent. I grew up near downtown in a mixed neighborhood that was considered a bit dodgy when my parents first bought their house there in the late 1970. As far as I was concerned, it was a great place to grow up: a real neighborhood with people on porches, kids playing in yards. if it was a little shabby, I never noticed. Now developers are building monster houses all around my parents, keeping the facades of houses to satisfy a weak historical commission while gutting and tripling the size of them to satisfy people with too much money. It's just sad, and now that I have read this book, I can see how this hunger for "renewal" started decades before, and has always resulted in collateral damage to neighborhoods. The difference between the present and the past is simply that fifty years ago those neighborhoods were largely black, and so the damage could be ignored.
Clever cover/title. While this does center around the Prince’s Hot Chicken story, it’s about 2/3 socioeconomic history of Nashville and it’s post civil war development. Lots of details, but it’s downright fascinating. That said, if you’re not a Nashville native - or a transplant like me - I’m not sure how much this will appeal. Regardless, trying to solve the mystery of just who the scorned woman was in the Prince’s origin story was fun.
I used to live in Nashville and never heard of “Nashville Hot Chicken” This book explains why that was, and as usual, it all comes down to racism, appropriation, and a dash of sexism. I love books that uncover street- level history- the stuff that doesn’t make the news.
If you're a culinary-history buff who loves a deep dive into who "owns" delicious dishes that morph into cultural treasures, this book is for you. Don't expect recipes or spice mixes. Instead, you'll get a history of the Prince family interwoven with the rise of redlining and racist real estate policies in Nashville — in other words, the story of how a city's infrastructure is designed to benefit the most powerful caste. What does that have to do with "Nashville" hot chicken? Everything. It's a detailed explainer of how the deck is too often stacked against Black entrepreneurs who simply want to profit from their own creative labor.
A fascinating view of history and race relations in one Southern town, through the lens of a culinary phenomenon. Nashville Hot Chicken has existed for over 150 years, but it was only after white entrepreneurs “discovered” the dish that he became a worldwide phenomenon. As a frequent visitor to Nashville (in the Before Times!) I really enjoyed this look at the fraught lives of two historically-divided Nashville communities, with a chicken dish as the tie that binds the worlds together. A charming, sobering, and ultimately enlightening read.
Expanding on her essay, "How Hot Chicken Really Happened," Rachel Louise Martin explores the history of hot chicken and the Prince family, but more importantly, the history and ongoing segregation of Nashville's housing and business communities from the Civil War to the March 2020 tornado that ripped across the state (non-spoiler spoiler alert: natural disasters are real estate vultures' best friend, and anyone paying attention to where help was and wasn't going in the city last year could see that). This is a concise and engaging read for anyone interested in racial inequity, culinary history, or Nashville history. Martin also highlights the fact that a woman, not Thornton Prince III, was the creator of this dish, and while it's impossible to identify with any certainty who she was, this book also acknowledges the importance of Black women to southern cuisine and southern culture overall. This book isn't all-encompassing by any means, but at 165 pages of content, it's definitely a good introduction to the history and ongoing practices that still contribute to class disparity in a large southern city today.
This book is the fascinating interwoven story of Nashville, hot chicken, and black history- and after reading this book, I really don’t think you can talk about one of those things without bringing up the other two. This book walks a line between telling the known history of Nashville, it’s segregation, and it’s infrastructure, while also speculating on the origins of its most well known dish created, or at least publicized by the Prince family, hot chicken.
What I like is that Martin uses the hot chicken story/speculation to draw the reader into learning more about the history and gentrification of the Black neighborhoods and communities that are now being erased into trendy spots and parking lots. This book was really thought-provoking. I live right down the street from Prince’s Hot Chicken and now I feel like I understand their history and family so much more.
Well-researched and interesting tie in between the racial history of Nashville and Nashville Hot Chicken (a personal fave!). As a genealogist, I especially enjoyed the history of the Prince family. Like in many US cities, black neighborhoods were destroyed in the name of urban renewal and progress. The Prince family had to move their restaurant as renewal swept through their neighborhood, time and time again. Once I'm comfortable again traveling, I will make a pilgrimage to Prince's Hot Chicken in Nashville. Thank you to Edelweiss and the publisher for the ARC.
Rachel Martin is a friend of mine, and I was so excited to pick up this book! Martin goes way further into nashville history than just a hot chicken recipe. She gives a walk down the culture and the city that shaped the place I call home now. With the social and racial inequities in play, this book inspired me to do a better job at being a part of Nashville — not just the trendy travel spot, but also it’s rich black history that is being pushed to the side. I learned so much from this book! Definitely recommend.
“Focusing on a single dish and the branches of the Prince family who created it, Rachel Louise Martin uses Nashville's signature, world-famous hot chicken to guide us through the history of a quintessential southern American town. This book serves as a comprehensive guide to a great city and to the people who were positively influenced by the very African American culture it sought, so often, to undermine. The delicacy of hot chicken is a thread between two cultures and gives historical perspective to this culinary craze.” —Carla Hall, chef and author of Carla Hall's Soul Food: Everyday and Celebration
“Nashville hot chicken is what best represents the soul of the city, and Rachel Martin describes its storied history. With a crunchy, spicy exterior, and a warm, melting center, it embodies what Nashville is all about.” —Maneet Chauhan, James Beard Award–winning chef, TV personality, restaurateur, and author of Chaat
“Historically, when we have heard about chicken and African American communities, it is from the perspective of stereotypes and offenses. Rachel Louise Martin has joined the voices that are turning the tide on recognizing the many contributions made by African Americans to cooking ‘the gospel bird.’ From their migration to Nashville to the present, Martin has shared the story of the Prince family and their place in history as the primary creators of the hot chicken phenomena. This is exciting reading filled with nuggets of African American histories of food, taste, labor, economics, race, gender, place, region, community, and so much more. It is at the same time a gastronomic study, memoir, and illumination of perseverance as much as it is about the ways culinary landscapes can be contentious and even triumphant. It can and should be taught in courses on entrepreneurship, labor, storytelling, material culture, and regionalism, among so many others. And, it absolutely is a food history that should be read by all!” —Psyche Williams-Forson, author of Building Houses out of Chicken Legs: Black Women, Food, and Power
3.5. I agree with reviews that if you are not familiar with Nashville, I'm not sure that this would be as interesting. As it is, it focused less on the food and family history and more on urban planning and "renewal" in the city. Which was interesting, but a surprise according to the title. The subtitle is accurate though!
I love Nashville Hot Chicken, especially Prince's. So, I thoroughly enjoyed learning this food history. What I didn't realize was how much "urban renewal" and racist housing practices factored into that history. BTW, medium is perfect.
I highly recommend this to anyone interested in history or urban planning. By tracing the people and places of hot chicken the author reveals how primarily African-Americans have been squeezed out, displaced, and reintroduced throughout Nashville.
I totally LOVED this book that tells the story of the rise in popularity of hot chicken in Nashville - what is really the story of Nashville’s black communities and race relations in Nashville.
I would highly suggest to other Nashville residents - I learned so much and it was a quick and easy read.
I picked up Hot, Hot Chicken because I had never heard of it only to be suddenly bombarded with advertisements for Nashville Hot Chicken.
Well.
The reason I'd never heard of hot chicken before is because a) I'm from West Tennessee and more of an occasional visitor to Nashville but, more importantly, b) I'm white. Hot chicken was first created in a segregated Black community in Nashville, and this book tells the tale of not only chicken but also the segregation of a city and how systemic racism has impacted the community where hot chicken was born.
Martin raises questions of cultural appropriation. She muses on whose stories get told and whose stories don't. Legend has it that hot chicken was created by a scorned wife, but we don't know--we can't know--which one of Prince's wives originated the recipe. He stole the recipe and made money from it, which brings up to the intersection of sexism.
Martin tells this tale in a lovely style. Not too academic, yet still informative. Nonfiction, but with a gorgeous narrative flow. She tells the unvarnished truth of the racism behind Nashville's housing travails, but she spares a little sympathy--empathy?--for Gerald Gimre. She says "as an educated, well-meaning white woman, it's easy for me to find answers. I like being right. I feel good when I've been helpful. But it's painful, humbling, even humiliating to sit down, shut up, and admit I may have been wrong, that I may not have even been asking the right questions. Any yet here I am, writing a book. No, I can't quite make that reconcile, either."
Whew. The way I relate to that moment of vulnerability. I live it. Might as well bring some ice cream because I often have to eat humble pie, and it would be nice if it were at least a la mode.
Anyhoo, this is a book about hot chicken, but it's about far more than hot chicken. the next time I want to sample hot chicken, I'll make sure I go to the source. You can be sure, that I'll be thinking of the history that went into the dish, the community, and the cooks.
Betsy Phillips told me to read this book, and if you live in Nashville, then you know that when Betsy tells you to read something, you read it.
What Rachel did with this book, and that she wrote it in 6 months, blows my mind. This is a masterful telling of Nashville’s history. So many of us who grew up here and live here know bits and pieces of this history, but I don’t think enough us know it all. And we need to, especially as we continue to buy/build houses and open businesses in Nashville’s historically Black neighborhoods.
To quote Odessa Kelly, “The road to hell is paved with well-intentioned white folks.” When I hear her say that, I know she’s right, but now that I’ve read this book, I see how far back it goes, and how systemic it’s been in Nashville the whole goddamn time.
Lastly, and not for nothing, thank GOD for women historians. I’ve lived my whole life not reading history books because I thought I wasn’t interested in them. Turns out, the books just weren’t interested in me as a reader. Yes please to more women writing history books.
Telling the story of systemic racism and urban development in Nashville through the history of hot chicken is a great idea, but unfortunately the writing is weak and formulaic at times.
My professor Bill Purcell recommended this as Extra Reading on the ‘Cities in the 21st Century’ syllabus and I have stared at it longingly on my to do list for the years since. And sat down in a few sittings and devoured this whole. A great Nashville story to be told and a reminder for me of how much I enjoy history and the study of it! Especially the hidden histories of the places around me. Returning to the Vanderbilt campus showed me how much I still desired from the campus environment. And fuck Hattie B’s!!
///// Quotes p45 The new commission rushed two representatives to Washington to request $12 million for slum clearance and low rent housing. Nashville was again too late. The entire 800 million had already been promised to other cities. “There’s no good reason why Nashville should be so egregiously the old cow’s tail – last over the fence in any progressive endeavor,” the Tennessee’s editor railed. “Yesterday the plain lack of initiative and business sense on the part of our city administration cost us $5 million in our hopes of improving the living conditions of our poorly housed anywhere in the future. That is expensive remissness.”
p71 The meat and three is one of those things Nashville likes to claim as its own, to the irritation of our sibling southeastern cities.
p74 Kyla Wazana Tompkins argued in Racial Indigestion, eating in America is a political act.
p119 “Participation without re-distribution of power is an empty and frustrating process for the powerless,“ HUD’s former chief advisor on citizen participation had warned administrators and urban planners in 1969. “It allows the power holders to claim that all sides were considered, but it makes possible for only some of those sides to benefit. It maintains the status quo.“ Nashville residents were savvy enough to see that and angry enough to fight it.
p160 When food is called soul food, that means it can, as Doris Witt wrote, be “uncritically embraced as the essence of blackness or else dismissed as an inauthentic, black face, product of white radical chic or black bourgeois ‘slumming,’”depending on the speaker and the audience.
I think it should be a requirement that you read this book before you eat hot chicken. Also, you have to read it if you visit, live in, or move to Nashville. That should cover about 90% of the population, judging from the growth of the city and the crowds of idiotic tourists that drive by my apartment and office in "transportainment" vehicles.
I initially lived in Germantown when I moved here and was starting learn about the black history of the community, but was still just scratching the surface when I was displaced by the 2020 tornado. I ended up on Music Row, and had started spying Black Lives Matter and Historic Edgehill signs and knew there was history here too that wasn't readily apparent or reflective in the current demographic. This book highlighted a lot of that history for me, and made me realize why it was so hard to find it. Nashville is in no way unique with its racism, segregation, and gentrification, but wow. There is an incredible amount of work that needs to be done.
I had the pleasure of attending a virtual book discussion with Martin and Professor Leorotha Williams, which helped to deepen my understanding of the issues and highlight even more how grave they are.
Martin summed it up perfectly: "As an educated, well-meaning white woman, it's easy for me to find answers. I like being right. I feel good when I've been helpful. But it's painful, humbling, even humiliating to sit down, shut up, and admit I may have been wrong, that I may not have even been asking the right questions."
Thank you, Rachel Louise Martin, for your work and for sharing it. Now everyone go and eat some Prince's hot chicken.
Forgot how I came across this book but I was curious to learn more about hot hot chicken (or what I thought it was, Nashville hot chicken or hot chicken). What I did not know was this book was actually about something else: Nashville's Black neighborhoods and communities, where the hot chicken was cooked and that it is a story and history of segregation, racism, and more.
So throughout the history, we learn of hot chicken, including its alleged origins, how it remained a "secret" until it was "discovered", the neighborhoods of the area, and how the centuries of racial inequities have led to the worsening living conditions of the neighborhoods.
While it was interesting, it was also not what I expected. Which was fine, but I have to agree with a negative review: having never been to Nashville or the area and did not know of any of the history (from the hot chicken to Nashville), it was difficult to get into and I do wonder if it would have helped if I had more knowledge of the region or its history. And it also seems like it really depends on one's experiences: Martin's history with Nashville is different from those of other residents.
That said, I would bet that for someone with specific knowledge of Nashville and/or hot chicken, this would be an excellent read.I'd recommend reading this in conjunction with The Color of Law by Richard Rothstein, which looks at how local/state/federal laws led to segregation of neighborhoods across the country. I also wouldn't be surprised to see a book like this for a class for something like urban planning or food history, etc.
This one was a library borrow and that was best for me.
I believe this is another miscommunication that means I did not enjoy the book as I could have.
I'm not *entirely* sure what this book is about, but it is not about hot chicken. OK, I know what it's about - it's about how black people were discriminated against, how the people who created hot chicken are getting shut out of the money flowing around that phrase, a history of the Nashville segregation and city planning since the literal Civil War, and how AA neighborhoods grew up around specific camps that escaped enslaved people settled and built during the Civil War, and how urban renewal projects, Eisenhower's Blight destruction and current gentrification trends keep destroying whole neighborhoods and relationships. Also, tornadoes.
The woman writing the book is white, and she is so timid and somewhat afraid to be telling this story, because it IS a story about the black community, and the author grew up in Nashville, left to go to college in 2008, and had never heard of hot chicken until she moved back in 20...16? It's not a part of her Nashville. I can't remember the year she moved back, but it was after the Hot Chicken boom. Anyhow, she seems worried that this book isn't her story to tell. She's probably right. But the timidity was off-putting while reading this book about Nashville's urban growth and history that I thought was gonna be about hot chicken. :P
(Audiobook) Given that I have extensive family connections to the city, anything about Nashville will pique my interest. Thus I come across this work which looks at the history of Nashville hot chicken. The story is somewhat well known, about how a jilted woman deliberately set out to sabotage the Sunday Fried Chicken with excessive hot sauce to punish her cheating man and instead of punishing him, it started a culinary trend that is now synonymous with the city itself. Yet, the true history is much harder to determine, and more complex. The family which supposedly gave birth to the Nashville hot chicken, the Princes, were descendants from former slaves in the South. Thus, the saga of hot chicken, making money off of it and establishing restaurants while dealing with racism, Jim Crow. segregation, redlining and gentrification are also as much a part of the tale as any discussions on ingredients or recipes. Admittedly, I haven't quite tried this legendary recipe in Nashville, but will try to rectify it. Still, this work is more than about food, and it is engaging to read and discover. A great read in any format, and before or after dinner.
Nashville is known for one of my favorite dishes,: Hot chicken. So when I saw a book called Hot, Hot Chicken: A Nashville Story, I was intrigued. I was also in for something completely unexpected.
In this book, Rachel Louise Martin ends up documenting a very specific history of Nashville using hot chicken as the jumping off point.
This book is really well researched and dense with facts. It meanders back and forth, from the Prince family’s association with the invention of hot chicken to the history of urban renewal and how it impacted Black communities, and includes interesting asides, such as a quote from Jimi Hendrix about how the city is where he really learned to play guitar.
I ended up getting a totally unexpected view of Nashville, seeing how much of its growth and renewal lacked meaningful benefit to its Black residents and in many cases displaced entire neighborhoods—homes, churches, businesses.
Thank you to Edelweiss+ and the publisher for the opportunity read this book in exchange for an honest review.
When I started reading this, I really didn’t know what to expect. Would there be recipes? Recs about spice level? Stories of woeful stomachaches/explosions from the hottest of the hot? Would I be alienated by my wimpy tastebuds and preference for medium spice at the hottest in all foods in general?
Spoiler alert: There was none of that. Instead, the author takes us on a journey through Nashville’s past and present, and explores the persistent systemic racism, segregation, and inequality that has plagued this city for years. Somehow she manages to weave the story of Hot Chicken and how it came to make its mark on the world in the midst of all that. This is not the most comfortable book to read as a white, transplanted Nashvillian (but native Tennessean), but I also think it’s important to know and face the realities of our history and our present.
Strong rec, especially if you’ve got any ties to Nashville.
This book is beautifully written and painstakingly researched. As a former Nashville resident, I was fascinated by how the city's history unfolded—in all its glory and all its ugliness—by following one family (and their delicious culinary creation) from the pre-Civil War era Nashville to present day Nashville. Poignant and powerful, the book highlights the very question that most of us never think to ask about the city where we live: how did it end up like this, and who decided that?
I recommend this book to anyone who loves Nashville, loves hot chicken, or just loves history.
A fascinating look at how a local dish becomes an international sensation, it’s origins, and the impact that a city’s racial divisions can have on the perception of history. Well researched and personal, this gem does what the best of #nonfiction does-ensure that the reader sees both the overarching narrative and the individual perspectives to experience the full story. And it really makes you crave hot chicken!
This was the story of maybe. Maybe this happened or maybe it didn't. I'm not sure how you research a story and end up with maybe, but this book did. My favorite part was the Epilogue about the tornado. Definitely not a maybe on that. Wanted to like this one a lot more than I did. Kind of like hot chicken itself.
Fascinating deep dive on Nashville’s most popular food, while also shining a light on the city’s racist housing & education policies, segregation, and gentrification. Definitely recommended to anyone who has ever eaten hot chicken and wondered about its origins.